


Pirozhki

by BecauseSin



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Gen, The victuuri is actually just mencioned, This is also a ship fic or a brotp, it depends of what do you want it to be, not really there I'm sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-11 11:51:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10464273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BecauseSin/pseuds/BecauseSin
Summary: The dough, Yurio thought, was always the easiest part. Funny, even.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first, and probably only fic for this fandom. I don't really want fics about this, you have it all in the show. But I think this turned out cute, so here it is.

The dough, Yurio thought, was always the easiest part. Funny, even. Mix, knead, stretch and knead again, until it’s smooth and nice. Then put it on a warm place and wait. The filling, on the other side, was a different story.

The dough was the body, but the filling was the spirit, and it must fit the people it’s destined to. It couldn’t be mismatched, it must be perfect for everyone and it was a bit difficult to find the correct one without asking. His grandfather never needed to ask though, he always seemed to know which one was the right one for every person and every moment. Yurio was hoping he had inherited at least a bit of his sixth sense.

It couldn’t be that difficult, right? To choose the right pirozhki for everyone he cared about to.

Yakov was an easy one. He was an old man, who had the russian’s spirit running pure on his blood.  Beef, with a few vegetables to make it tastier. And Lilia, the witch, she would like them too. She could have been the prima ballerina at the ballet for years, but she had also been Yakov’s wife for a long time and he was sure something had stuck with her.

What about Mila, then? The annoying skater who was always teasing him and he couldn’t stand. She would like the Russian favorite too, probably. But she needed something else, because she was greedy and special. Hard-boiled eggs chopped into little pieces would make it. A normal pirozhki with a little add on to make it better.

Viktor used to have a common taste too, but lately he had found a new passion. Something that made him different from what he had been. Something that made him look like he was glowing, more than he had ever done. And he had always been Russia’s brightest star. Pork cutlet would do it for him of course. It was both a joke and a sign at this point, a mark of what had changed that trip to Japan. He was back at home, but he wasn’t alone anymore because the little Japanese had decided to come back with him.

That damned Yuuri who dared to think he could leave ice skating after the Grand Prix. As if he could just leave when he was starting to shine. As if Yurio would allow him to do that. As if. Just thinking about it made him mad again. At least he was there now, training and getting better. And enjoying pork cutler pirozhkis even more than Viktor. They were so gross. So gross it was almost cute. Of course he would never say that to them. It was his secret, as well as the cooking morning. No one needed to know.

When the last one for the gross couple was done, he started with the hardest one.  What could Beka possibly like? Yurio knew almost nothing about him and still their friendship had flowed so easily, it was almost incredible. It was also unusual for Yurio to feel that way, to make friends and smile and share casual conversations through the phone. That’s why he wanted that pirozhki to be the Right One. To say for him what he wouldn’t say with words. And he just had one chance, since Otabek was at Moscu for a short vacation just until next weekend. It had to be perfect.

However, it was difficult to be perfect with someone you don’t know so much. He would like meat, right? Sounds like something Beka could like. But just meat was so plain, it needed to have something else, something to make it better. Cheese, maybe. Yeah, meat and cheese sounded good. And Yurio liked them too, so he could always say he had done them for himself if everything turned to the worst. If he didn’t like them… But he would, right? He would.

So spread the dough, make it a circle and add the filling. Seal it careful to be sure it won’t spill later. Then make it look nicer. Smooth it a bit. Then move to fill the next one.

Once all the pirozhkis were on the tray, he painted little dots on them with the food coloring, to distinguish them so he wouldn’t mess them once they’re ready to deliver. Red for Mila, Blue for Viktor and Yuuri, Yellow for Yakov and Lilia, and Green for Otabek.

Right to the oven, avoiding to burn his hands like the first time, and then wait until they’re done. Enough time to clean everything and hide the evidence. Lilia would never know what he did on her kitchen, though maybe she could suspect when she find the small package on the coffee table. No proofs no crime.

Mila got her bag hidden in her locker, waiting for her to finish the daily training. He was used to sneak into Viktor and Yuuri’s house, so he just left their package inside while they were out. On the pantry, of course, so it would be out of Makkachin’s reach.

The last one was on his backpack, while he waited for Beka to arrive. They would be spending the afternoon together, like on those days back at Barcelona, so he would have a lot of chances to give him his little present. If he dares to, that’s it.

A little after that, from his seat at the bench, he could heard the sound of a bike coming closer. It didn’t take too much for him to see the owner, who was just parking it at that moment. Yes, he would undoubtedly dare to do it. He couldn’t waste all the effort from that morning. And also, Beka deserved it.


End file.
